


la petite mort

by vespertilionidae



Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Ambiguous sex, F/M, Romance?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 11:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vespertilionidae/pseuds/vespertilionidae
Summary: Mistress Death visits Thanos and grants him a favor.





	la petite mort

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this to spite a friend. it worked.

Mistress Death manifests suddenly, but not unexpectedly. Thanos has learned to be vigilant. She steps forward to stand before him. She is arresting, standing tall and in complete confidence. Death stands close enough that Thanos would feel her breath, had she any need of breath. Thanos studies her features, but her expression is unreadable.

 

Death slowly winds her arms around Thanos’ neck, pressing forward so that her body leans against his. She looks up at him expectantly. Thanos tries to speak, but his words get caught in his throat.

 

Death puts a hand on Thanos’ cheek and pulls him into a soft kiss.

 

“Oh,” he says, reaching up and placing his hand over hers. “Oh. My lady, I love you too.”

 

When she pulls back, her face is skeletal. Thanos leans down to press his lips against her teeth.

 

Thanos holds her closer, one hand running up her shoulder and along her jaw while the other curls around her back. She gently nudges Thanos backwards. The backs of his knees hit the edge of his bed. He realises the implication immediately, and, overjoyed, kisses her again, and again, reluctant to pull away even for a second.

 

“Are you sure?” Thanos manages to ask.

 

She nods.

 

He sits, and she follows him, resting on his lap. She runs a hand down Thanos’ chest and slips it under his shirt. His breath catches, and a weak noise rises unbidden from the back of his throat. Thanos blushes deep purple. Death slowly pulls off Thanos’ shirt. He feels open, and receptive. He aches for her touch, but still he feels a reverential fear, as if he were in a dream and touching her would wake him. Death extends a hand to trace the lines on his chest down to his lower abdomen. Her fingers are cold, but gentle and even affectionate. Death leans forward, slowly pushing Thanos to lie on the bed fully.

 

Thanos’ hands finally find their way under her robe, caressing her spine and ribcage. He runs his fingertips over each vertebrae, trying to commit the shapes to memory. He kisses her again, slowly and passionately. Death’s fingertips run down Thanos’ cheek, his neck, his chest, his hips, to between his legs. Thanos leans his head back and bites his lip to hold back an embarrassing noise. 

 

Death presses her mouth to his once before they join. Thanos can’t help but cry out softly. He feels overwhelmed, lifetime enduring emotions threatening to overflow and spill out as tears. His hands run up and down her ribs and shoulder blades. Death bites at his neck gently and Thanos’ heartbeat quickens. He kisses the side of her face and jaw desperately.

 

Death moves forward, and Thanos’ legs instinctively rise to encircle her hips as he moans again. She looks down at him, moving slowly with him. He exhales slowly, looks up at her, and nods. Death moves faster, her hand still between his thighs. 

 

Her closeness, her affectionate touches, and the movement between them meant the sensations accumulated embarrassingly quickly. Thanos’s toes curl, and his grip around her tightens as he tries to stutter an “I love you” that comes out more as a moan. 

 

The culmination is truly what he had waited for his entire life. His coincides perfectly with Death’s, but the full weight of the synchronisation is lost on him, preoccupied with his own satisfaction. Death collapses on him, also satisfied. He puts both hands on her cheeks, kisses her deeply. Her own hands caress his chest and sides.

 

“I love you,” he says. He repeats the sentence between kisses, alternating between breathless speech and pressing his lips passionately to her teeth.

 

Death nods happily, slipping her arms around his neck and behind his head. Thanos kisses her nose and cheekbones, and she leans into his touch. 

 

Her cold weight on his chest is comforting, and Thanos grows tired quickly. Death rests her head on his chest and under his chin. He kisses the top of her head lazily as he drifts into sleep.


End file.
